


come on and play (what do ya say?)

by alesford



Series: our family of choice [24]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Families of Choice, Family Fluff, Family Shenanigans, Fluff, Gen, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-16 20:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16502357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alesford/pseuds/alesford
Summary: “I thought it’s supposed to be asexycop outfit.”Wynonna leans against the doorway to the kitchen, already gnawing on a Tootsie Pop that has turned her lips cherry red. The hood of her rainbow onesie is pulled up around her head and she has her creepy horse mask in the hand not holding onto her third lollipop of the night.ORIt's Belle's first Halloween with all the crazy that is her foster family and its adorable psychos.





	come on and play (what do ya say?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkWiccan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkWiccan/gifts), [Delayne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delayne/gifts), [Laragh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laragh/gifts).



> This is day two of my NaNoWriMo 2018 goal and my late _**Happy Halloween, fandom family!**_ Have some fluffy goodness after the heartache I caused with my [**Earp Couch Con AU fic**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16492220).
> 
> This fic is to the lovely folks of EFA Podcast and their return for the second season of [**Earp Fiction Addiction**](http://efapodcast.com)! Congrats on returning with a death defying start. There are no zombies in this story, I'm afraid, but I'm okay with that.
> 
> Thanks again, all of you who have stuck with me. That you take the time to read the bits and pieces that I throw out into the world means a lot to me. Kudos to you all.

**come on and play (what do ya say?)**

_we're gonna raise some hell, yeah, we're gonna rock and roll here_  
_and the sulfur that you smell, well, it adds a little soul there_  
_we're dancin' on your grave and we're dancin' in the street_  
_we're dancin' through the fire and it's burnin' up our feet_  
_\- 'ghouls gone wild' by alice cooper_

 

“I thought it’s supposed to be a  _ sexy _ cop outfit.”

Wynonna leans against the doorway to the kitchen, already gnawing on a Tootsie Pop that has turned her lips cherry red. The hood of her rainbow onesie is pulled up around her head and she has her creepy horse mask in the hand not holding onto her third lollipop of the night.

Nicole turns her head to glare at Wynonna. “You better be talking to me and not to Belle,” she says with a scowl, adjusting the tiny black tie that’s clipped to the collar of Belle’s French blue dress shirt. The color doesn’t exactly match the standard for the Purgatory Sheriff’s Department but it’s close enough to make her foster daughter smile with a bit of pride in her shy grin.

“Police are supposed to be friendly, ‘Nonna,” Belle mumbles quietly, not quite confident enough tonight to make eye contact as she talks.

The sound of small, booted feet thundering down the stairs catches their attention. Alice skids to a stop beside her mother, clomping her snow boots on the wooden floor. “Are you guys ready, yet?” she draws out with the whine of a child eager for her sugar high. She adjusts the earmuffs hanging around her neck that have been disguised as headphones so that they sit  _ just so  _ around the collar of her red hoodie and the kid-sized white lab coat over it.

“Do we have everything?” Nicole asks Belle, who pulls a neatly-folded square of paper from her pocket.

Belle begins the read from the checklist that she, Waverly, and Nicole had written earlier that morning. “Snow boots, trousers, shirt with patches, tie, jacket, gloves, hat. Candy bag.” Her brow wrinkles and she frowns. “I forgot my bag at the homestead.”

“The one you decorated with Jeremy during craft night?” Nicole asks, already running through other options in her mind, including whether or not she should encourage Belle to adapt to the unexpected hiccup.

Biting her lower lip, Belle nods. She carefully folds the note back into a square and returns it to her pocket. “It’s okay,” she says quietly. “I’ll go get my pillowcase.”

“I got it!” Alice says loudly, feet clamoring back up the stairs. Wynonna snorts, laughing as they hear what is most definitely a trip and a yelp. But then Alice is back to the kitchen with a pillowcase in one hand and her own candy bag in the other, which is thrust towards Belle with a smile. “You can use my bag and I’ll use the pillowcase, Belle.”

“It’s yours,” Belle says, already tentatively reaching for the small cloth bag covered in felt pumpkins and ghost stickers and tiny bats. “You made it.”

Alice’s mouth twists in contemplation for only a moment before she shrugs, big and dramatic. “Pillowcases hold more candy,” she explains as if that’s all there is to her magnanimity. 

Wynonna and Nicole share a look, one full of wonder and curiosity that begs the question,  _ How the hell did we end up with kids as cool as them? _

“Is that everything on your list?” Wynonna inquires, crunching down on the Tootsie Pop and biting away what’s left of the candy. Belle nods affirmatively as Wynonna tosses the sticky white stick into the bin and starts tugging the horse mask over her head. “Can’t see for shit in this thing.”

“Language,” Nicole mutters. 

Wynonna, now the image of some demented, queer Bojack Horseman, just shrugs unapologetically. “Let’s get this sugar show on the road!” She pumps her fists in the air and Alice follows suit with a yip and a yay. Belle laughs, a hushed but happy giggle.

-

Belle casts a look over her shoulder where Wynonna and Nicole are waiting patiently on the sidewalk.  _ We aren’t babies, _ Alice had said at the first house of the evening.  _ You guys don’t have to walk up to the house with us. _ Belle agreed with a nod, even if she wasn’t entirely sure of Alice’s statement.

“Do we get to keep all the candy?” she asks Alice as they wander up the walkway to the last house before they’re meant to head to the station to meet up with Jeremy and Waverly, who are performing safety checks and handing out candy with the deputies on duty.

Alice shoots her a look. It’s the same one that Wynonna makes with squinting eyes and judgment written across her face. Like somebody’s just said something entirely blasphemous.

“We work hard for our candy, Belle,” Alice tells her. “Especially since that one weirdo from America made us tell him a joke before he’d give us candy.”

“He said it was tradition where he’s from.”

“Saint Louis,” Alice muttered under her breath. “Bunch of weirdos.”

Belle shrugs, keeping just a step behind the older girl when Alice jabs at the doorbell three times and then a fourth. Just in case the first three rings aren’t heard.

“Trick or treat!” Alice screams as the door opens wide and a disgruntled looking midwife in a Bride of Frankenstein costume shoves a bowl of candy in the girls’ faces.

“Here. Take your candy and get off my porch,” the woman grumbles.

Alice grabs an overflowing handful of miniature candy bars and drops them into the pillowcase. Belle is much more conservative, taking only two pieces for her own candy bag.

“Thank you,” Belle mumbles.

The front door is already halfway closed when they hear, “Now scram!”

“Go fly a kite!” Alice yells. She digs around into her own sack of sugary loot and snags a fistful of candy, dropping it into Belle’s bag. “You should’ve grabbed more,” she explains when Belle begins to protest. “That woman was a witch, anyways.” She takes Belle by the hand, tugging her back towards Wynonna and Nicole. “C’mon. Aunt Waverly and Uncle Jeremy always have king-sized candy bars at the station.” 

Belle allows herself to be pulled along, cold and tired and ready to snuggle into a warm blanket with the peppermint hot chocolate that Nicole and Waverly promised her. For now, she settles comfortably against Alice’s side, walking in-step until they’re greeted by Wynonna asking, “So, why are we telling ol’ Stef Padoca to fly a kite?”

“She’s a witch,” Alice states plainly.

Nicole hums skeptically. “Uh-huh,” she says.

“Sure thing, mini me.”

Belle slips away from Alice’s side and sidles up to Nicole, tapping her gently with a gloved hand. “Can we go sese Waverly and Jeremy?” Belle asks. “And have hot chocolate, too?”

Nicole grins and nods, offering her own gloved hand to hold. “You read my mind. We’ll have to add extra marshmallows, too.”

“I like extra marshmallows,” Alice chimes.

“Me too,” Wynonna adds. “Can we have extra marshmallows?”

Nicole points a gloved finger at each of them. “Only if you two behave.”

Wynonna scrunches her face. “What? Us? Not behave? Never.”

It elicits a snicker from Belle, which only encourages Wynonna to make even funnier faces until Nicole punches her in the shoulder.

“Ow,” she whines. “I thought we weren’t supposed to solve our problems with violence.”

Before the two adults can devolve into childlike bickering, Alice pokes her mother in the side to catch her attention. “Hey, mom?” she murmurs. She points farther down the sidewalk, two houses away, where a man is gesticulating wildly at a young boy dressed in as a fairy godmother. His candy bag droops to the ground in one hand while his glittering, magic wand is on the pavement by his feet.

They can hear the volume of his voice from where they stand, though they can’t quite make out the words. Whatever he’s saying, the boy has his eyes locked on the ground and Belle thinks that she can see tears on his cheeks. She moves behind Nicole’s left leg, holding tight to the hand that Nicole had offered earlier.

Alice watches Belle shrink in on herself. Watches her eyes grow wide before the little girl hides her face, pressing against the back of Nicole’s duty jacket. Alice looks from Belle to the man and back to Belle again. 

She drops her pillowcase of candy right there on the sidewalk, and in all her Holliday-Earp glory, Alice stomps her tiny feet until they march her to the space in between the blustering father and the crying son.

“Hey, mister!” she shouts, demanding his attention with all the fury her seven-year-old frame can muster. “Stop yelling at him! You’re scaring him and my friend!”

The man towers over her. She puffs out her chest like she’s seen Uncle Jeremy do when he’s scared but brave. It makes her feel brave, too.

“Get out of here, little girl,” he snaps. “This is between  _ my _ son and me. You—”

“Sir.”

Alice knows that voice. It’s Aunt Nicole’s work voice. The one she uses when she’s Sheriff Haught and not Aunt Nicole. It means that somebody’s in t-r-o-u-b-l-e.

Wynonna yanks her daughter back beside her and Belle as Nicole steps into the man’s personal space. Her mom doesn’t say anything; she just squeezes her shoulder and gives her a proud smile. But the three of them — Wynonna, Alice, and Belle — stay silent because  _ Sheriff Haught _ is having  _ words _ with the man.

“—and the next time you consider belittling your child for being himself and expressing that how he wishes,  _ especially _ on Halloween, perhaps you should rethink your words and your actions. And maybe reconsider giving your ex-wife full custody, since she accepts your son as he is instead of forcing toxic masculinity down his throat like you’re trying to do.” She levels her strongest glare of authority at him. “Got it?”

He nods glumly. “Yes, Sheriff,” he grumbles.

Nicole kneels to the boy’s eye level, gaze softening as she holds out one of her business cards. “If you ever need anything, you can call me or the Sheriff’s Department, okay? We’re here to protect and to serve.”

The boy’s head dips in understanding and a quiet,  _ Thanks.  _

As a last gesture of goodwill and with one more pointed stare at the jackass of a father, Nicole picks up the fallen wand and offers it to the kid. “Happy Halloween, fairy godmother.”

He smiles shyly at her and waves goodbye as the four of them set off towards 20th Street.

Belle waves back.

-

Waverly and Jeremy finish sorting through the girls’ candy haul, having checked for open wrappers or questionable treats.

“All done,” Waverly announces, handing the decorated candy bag back to Belle while Jeremy passes the pillowcase to Alice. “Now, you can each pick out ten pieces of candy each to have tonight with your hot chocolate.”

“With extra marshmallows,” Alice adds.

“ _ Eight  _ pieces of candy to have with your hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.”

Belle nods. Alice groans.

“Waves,” Nicole interrupts quietly, leaning against an unoccupied desk with a ginger beer in one hand and another beer in the other. She offers the latter to Wynonna, who’s propped up beside her. “It’s Halloween. Let them enjoy their candy.”

“They’re old enough to make their own bad decisions,” Wynonna says, taking the proffered beer and clinking the neck against Nicole’s boring, non-alcoholic beverage.

Waverly huffs. “Fine, but you two are cleaning up the puke.”

Jeremy claps his hands together excitedly. “I’ll get the hot chocolate for mini me and Belle! Extra marshmallows coming right up!”

Alice grins at Belle, which the younger girl matches. “C’mon,” she says. “We gotta sort our candy.”

Belle looks at her in confusion. “Sort?”

Alice nods, plopping down onto the floor a few meters away from her mother’s feet, dumping her pillowcase of candy onto the ground. “Sort and trade. That way you get your favorites and I get my favorites. You like Reese’s cups, right?” Belle’s head bobs affirmatively. “Right. And I like Coffee Crisps, so we’ll trade those and figure out the rest.”

Belle looks thoughtfully at the pile of candy on the floor that Alice is already separating by type, brand, and flavor. It’s all very strategic and organized. She takes a seat on the ground just far enough to empty her own bag of candy and not mix it up with Alice’s. One by one, they trade Coffee Crisps for Reese’s and barter for other favorites and least favorites.

When all is said and done, candy traded and cups of hot cocoa with extra marshmallows filling their stomachs, Belle gathers all of the red, fun-size packs of malted milk balls that she can carry and makes her way towards the table where Waverly and Nicole have taken refuge.

“These are for you,” she murmurs, pushing them onto the tabletop between the two women. “Thank you for letting me live with you and for helping me with my Halloween costume and for all the maltesers and everything.”

She begins to walk back towards Alice when she hears Nicole ask, “Hey, Belle, will you share some maltesers with us?”

When she turns around to face her foster moms again, they’re smiling at her with such affection and love that Belle isn’t sure she would want to do anything else but nod and say, “Yes, please.”

Waverly lifts her onto her lap and Nicole tears open one of the small packages and together they share maltesers and talk about everything and nothing.

This, Belle thinks, is what family is.

Candy, bad jokes, smiles, and laughter.

 

 

 


End file.
